Sorry this chapter took so long, guys, I had a rough time figuring out where one of the original scenes should go, and I didn't have much in mind for this episode, but it's one of those episodes I can't skip, since it's important to the show's storyline, haha
But I muscled through, and now that the difficult part is over, I'm probably gonna hit the next several chapters out bang, bang, bang since we're where I've been dying to get to (So long as I don't have any unforeseeable problems *Cough* *Cough* Writers Block *Cough* *Cough* in the future)

*****************************

When they had left upstate New York after the haunted painting, it had been roughly the beginning of July. Now, August was nearing, as it was several days before the end of the month, and after drifting between jobs with nothing to really go off of, they had found a possible case in Colorado. Sam had spotted the article, but Dean had been the one to see a connection between the victim and the Winchesters' father. So, with that realization, their group of three had made their way to Colorado to investigate the passing of a Daniel Elkins, whose cause of death was officially a bear attack despite signs of robbery.

Considering he was in John Winchester's journal, they all doubted a bear was what had mauled him in his own home.

That was how they ended up at a lone cabin in the woods in the dead of night, Sam picking the lock as Deja and Dean waited with flashlights.

Obviously, they had to get a good look at the home for themselves before anything else, see if there were any signs that normal local authorities would be ignorant of.

Deja followed Dean deeper into the cabin while Sam stayed near the front. Deja glanced in a few of the rooms, noting that they were all undisturbed while Dean headed in the opposite direction.

"Looks like the maid didn't come today," he announced for all of them to hear, and Deja doubled back to see the room his flashlight was shining into. Sure enough, this room actually showed the signs of an intrusion.

"Hey, there's salt over here, right inside the door," Sam called as Dean started looking through the mess of papers and journals on the desk right next to the door and Deja stepped deeper into the room.

"You mean like protects against a demon salt, or, uh, oops I spilled the popcorn salt?" Dean asked, flipping open a worn journal on top of the mess of stuff on the desk. Deja crouched down closer to the opposite wall, running her fingers against the dried drops of crimson her flashlight had picked up on.

Blood, just a little...and probably not Elkins' blood.

"It's clearly a ring," Sam returned in answer to Dean's question. "You think this Elkins guy was a player?"

"Definitely," Dean and Deja said at the same time, earning a slightly startled glance from each other. Dean was still looking at the journal, and Deja at the blood on the ground, each of them having their own reasons for their definite answers. Dean didn't keep that eye contact long, however, turning his attention right back to the journal he was looking through.

Now Deja was curious.

Sam entered the room as Deja stood up, and they both came over to see what had Dean so focused, each peering over a respective shoulder down at the open pages of the journal.

"That looks a hell of a lot like Dad's," Sam eventually said.

"Except this dates back to the sixties," Dean murmured, flipping through a few more pages.

"He must have been a veteran hunter, then," Deja said quietly, shining her flashlight back over to the spot where she'd found the dried blood. "Whatever got him, he stuck it—there's dried blood over there on the floor, just a bit."

They searched the room a little longer, Dean continuing to flip through the old journal before joining them in moving onto the next space.

This room, despite the mess of the first, was the one that truly looked like a war zone, with the door busted open and a large bookcase spilled on its side, paper and boxes, lamps, random chunks of wood, and stuff in general littering the entire floor, as well as a healthy—well, unhealthy—dose of blood. The wind outside could be heard clearly in here, and the gust seemed to be coming inside, ruffling papers and Deja's hair. They all looked up at the sound to see the broken skylights, and a thoughtful frown pulled the corners of Deja's mouth down.

"Whatever attacked him, there was more than one," Sam assessed as their flashlight beams swept the room again.

"Looks like he put up a hell of a fight, too," Dean added.

"Yeah..." Sam said, voice low before the three of them fanned out around the room. Sam started going through the mess of things on the desk while doing his best to avoid touching the blood, Dean started making his way across the room with glass crunching underneath his feet, and Deja again took up the far end, looking for anything that had scattered to the edge of the room in the fight.

Dean suddenly crouched down, fingers brushing against something on the ground.

"Got something?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. Some scratches on the floor," Dean replied thoughtfully.

Sam and Deja both approached him, aiming their flashlights to the spot Dean was crouched in front of. "Death throes, maybe?" Sam suggested.

"Yeah...maybe."

As Dean got up to grab a piece of paper and a pencil in the mess of the room, Deja shifted closer to get a better look at the scratches. "Looks too...well, precise to be death throes. Death throes are random, this was made with a purpose."

"That's what I'm thinking," Dean responded, crouching down to start getting a rubbing of the scratches, much like one would do on old gravestones. When it was done he peeled the paper off of the floor, enough blood on that spot it stuck to the floor and left blood on the back of the paper. They didn't pay the blood any mine, however, because they were too busy looking at what Dean's rubbing had revealed. "It may be a message."

Sam, who had moved to look up at the shattered skylights again, stepped closer as Dean handed the paper to him. "Look familiar?" Dean asked.

Sam studied the paper for a split second before speaking. "Three letters, six digits. The location and combination of a post office box...it's a mail drop."

"That's just the way Dad does it," Dean added as Deja rose to her feet.

"Whatever's at the drop, we should find it. It has to be important if this Elkins guy spent his last minutes carving a mail drop into the floor."

******************************

They went to the post office together—and by together, she meant sharing the same car, her Corvette parked safely somewhere it wouldn't be bothered—so that they would be less conspicuous, the boys going inside to pick up whatever was in the post office while Deja remained in the back seat of the Impala. It didn't take them long, and when they returned they were both wearing matching frowns, a simple white envelope in Dean's hands. Once they were all in the Impala again, Dean held it out where everyone could see, Deja leaning forwards and propping her arms up on the front seat to get a clear view.

"J.W....You think? John Winchester?" Sam asked as Dean held the envelope almost hesitantly in front of all of them, clearly unsure of how to treat this. More and more connections to John were showing up on this case, and the more that showed up the more wrong it felt for them to be working this case instead of John.

At least Deja felt that way.

"I don't know. Should we open it?" Dean asked. No sooner had the words left Dean's lips was there a knock on the driver's door window, causing all three hunters to jump in alarm and reach for weapons.

The face smiling at the boys was the last face she expected to see. Though considering the connections popping up with the case, she shouldn't have been as surprised.

"Dad?" Dean asked before John opened the door to the back seat, and Deja slid over to make room for the senior Winchester, still surprised to see him.

"Dad, what are you doing here? Are you all right?" Sam asked as John got settled. Deja suddenly found herself feeling like the...fourth wheel of an unexpected family reunion.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Look, I read the news about Daniel, I got here as fast as I could."

Deja blinked while Sam and Dean shared a surprised look. She was pretty sure her train of thought was along a different vein than Sam and Dean's, though.

This guy dies, you high tail it from who knows where to find out what happened to him. All this crap happens with your two sons, and the only time you surface is when they think they might have a lead on the demon that killed their mother...why do I see something wrong with this picture?

John finally spared her a look when his gaze passed over the three of them as a whole with his next words, eyes lingering on her for a moment as if he was thinking of going off point to say something to her before he continued addressing all of them. "I saw you three up at his place."

Sam frowned. "Why didn't you come in, Dad?"

"You know why. Because I had to make sure you weren't followed," John said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. "By anyone...or anything. Nice job of covering your tracks, by the way."

"Yeah, well, we learned from the best," Dean replied, the pride obvious in his tone.

Well, those two learned from you—my training came from elsewhere.

"Wait, so you came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?" Sam asked incredulously. Deja was just glad she wasn't the one who was starting to voice it, since that wasn't her place.

Don't insert yourself into their family drama, you're the outsider who's only been here so long.

"Yeah. He was...he was a good man. He taught me a hell of a lot about hunting," John replied.

"You never mentioned him to us," Sam said.

"We had a...we had kind of a falling out. I hadn't seen him in years."

That doesn't make it any better.

"I should look at that," John said, gesturing to the letter still clutched in Dean's hands before anyone could ask any more questions. After John had opened the letter, he started to read it aloud. "If you're reading this, I'm already dead...that son of a bitch."

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"He had it the whole time."

"Dad, what?" Sam stressed.

"When you searched the place, did ya-did you see a gun? An antique, a colt revolver, did you see it?" John asked intently, looking between the three of them.

"Uh, there was an old case, but it was empty," Dean informed him. John cursed under his breath.

"They have it."

"You mean whatever killed Elkins?" Dean asked. John completely ignored their questions, moving to get out of the car.

"We got to pick up the trail."

"Wait. You want us to come with you?" Sam asked in surprise, leaning over to look at their dad, who was now out of the car and leaning on the windowsill on the driver's side. Deja didn't move closer, but remained leaning back behind Sam's seat, watching the Winchesters quietly.

"If Elkins is telling the truth, we've got to find this gun," John told his boys.

"The gun? Why?" Sam asked.

"Because it's important, that's why," John snapped.

"Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet," Sam argued.

"They were what Danny Elkins killed best. Vampires."

"Vampires?" Dean echoed, surprise written across his face. "I thought there was no such thing?"

"You never even mentioned them, Dad," Sam added with disbelief.

I think I've only chanced upon a vampire once, so...I can see how some people would think they didn't exist.

"I thought they were extinct," John answered his boys. "I thought Elkins and others had wiped them out. I was wrong."

Sam and Dean shared a look, and while they had their moment of silent communication, John's gaze finally slid to settle on Deja in her dark corner of the car. "So, you're still with them?" John asked.

"Yes sir, I am," Deja answered with calm confidence.

"Huh," was all John said in answer. At least for now.

I'm getting the feeling he does not like me, for whatever reason.

*****************************

When they checked into the motel for this particular hunting trip, they still only got two rooms despite John joining them for the hunt, the brothers' father wanting to room with them. Deja's spirits dipped slightly at the news, as she didn't exactly feel...comfortable or welcome around John, which meant she wasn't going to be spending free time in the boys' room with them like she usually did. Of course, she didn't say anything about it—he was there father, who was she to intrude like that?

She didn't unpack—she simply threw a bag on the bed and headed over to the Winchesters' room, expecting John to brief them on what they knew before they fell into coming up with a game plan for at least the next day.

Stepping through, Sam and Dean were getting set up on the beds while John stoically claimed a small space on the couch near the desk. Sam and Dean both smiled when she entered, relaxing slightly when her presence registered with them, though John only glanced her over, his eyes calculating, sizing her up.

Something she was pretty sure she'd have to endure for a while.

"So, Floy," John said suddenly, drawing Deja's attention from the boys and towards him instead. "I thought, when Sam and Dean told me about you, that your name was familiar, so I did some digging while I was away."

Deja remained calm outwardly, but in her mind numerous things flashed before her eyes of information he could have found if he looked hard enough that could lead this conversation in nasty directions, and she didn't like how many secrets came to the forefront of her mind, especially the number of secrets she didn't want the other two occupants of the room to discover.

Remaining calm—there was no point to freak out ahead of time, since doing so would give away that she did have something to hide if John either didn't have anything or didn't have anything she considered bad—she stayed silent to let John know that he could continue.

"You were the Floy that was with a hunter by the name of Reid Thurston, on his last hunt," John said, holding her gaze. Deja felt ice go down her spine, and she stiffened involuntarily.

"Yeah, that was me," she said steadily. She did not like where this was going. It was too close to one of her secrets...

"He was a good...seasoned hunter. You're the only one who knows what happened, how he died and all. Especially since you burned his body," John said casually, stepping closer. Deja didn't move forwards or backwards, but stayed where she was standing, feeling Sam and Dean's gazes on both of them. She didn't turn to see if they were wary, concerned, cautious, upset, none of it, but kept her gaze locked with John so he didn't have an excuse to see her as shifty.

"Of course I burned his body, I gave him a hunter's funeral—and I was his partner for roughly a year before that. It's not exactly something I like to talk about, but as much as we'd all like to pretend if you've been doing the job a long time you're invincible, things still go wrong, even if you're seasoned. Things went wrong. He died, I didn't, and after he died I went back to solo hunting," Deja returned evenly. John didn't miss a beat.

"Not only did I find that, but I found the case, about what happened to you, and your family."

Deja instantly tensed, her switch flipping automatically as she went into a full defensive mode. Dean spoke up behind her, and she heard him move closer.

"Dad—" he started to protest, but John talked over him.

"How does one thirteen-year-old who's never come across anything supernatural hold off two satanic witches, especially with a fire that burns through a house that fast, so fast it had the firefighters shocked there was hardly anything left when they arrived not long after it started. And why do you insist you were the only survivor, if there were bodies found for your parents and even your dog...but not you or your brother."

Dean had looked like he was on the edge of protesting again throughout John's entire speech, stepping even closer to Deja, and Sam had moved as well, which let Deja know he was ready to join his brother in that defense. But at John's words it grew quiet. The pair only stared each other down for several long, long moments before Deja spoke, her voice soft but firm.

"If you must know, my brother wasn't on the best of terms with my family at the time and wasn't staying with us—he wasn't there when it happened. They killed him first, somewhere else." Deja studied John for a moment, then continued, deciding she had to stop this now before it grew anymore, because she was not going to put up with John Winchester's apparent Alpha Male attitude. "You know, I get that I am an unknown traveling with your sons at a dangerous time, I can get that you want to protect them, but don't you dare start to think for one moment that I answer to you. And don't think that you have a right to dig up things in my past and treat me as a suspect, because you sure as hell don't. You weren't there when my family was killed or when Reid died, so you can't stand there and try to judge me when you don't even know what happened, simply cause you want to intimidate me."

Now Deja moved, and she moved to stand face to face with John, letting him see up close the seriousness of her expression, and how much she meant every word. "I watched my family die, right in front of me, so believe me when I say you do not scare me, John." She didn't give John a chance to continue his investigation in case he had more, or for Sam or Dean to interfere, but instead ended it herself, turning her head enough to show she was speaking only to Sam and Dean but not enough to meet their gazes. "If you need anything, I'll be next door unpacking," she said in a slightly clipped tone, turning her back on all three before she left the room, silently fuming inside.

He knew nothing.

Nothing.

Of the hell she'd seen.

*****************************

Once Deja left, Dean found himself, surprisingly, turning on his father, pointing towards the door that had just swung loudly shut behind Deja, not enough to be a slam, however. She'd been too controlled for that much emotion to show, to icy and distant.

She wasn't about to show emotion when she flipped that switch Dean hadn't seen since the human hunters had almost killed him.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked, a note of anger in his voice as he stared down his father. He felt out of his depth and exposed, out of place, but he was too upset to really take note of it at the moment.

"She's too shady, Dean, I don't like how little is known about her. She keeps herself distant from hunters as a whole, and not just after what happened with Reid Thurston. Her getting so close to you two, especially right now, when she's only show interest in hunting with others once before and that one other ended up dead—I don't like it," John said dismissively, as if that answered everything.

Dean, however, bristled, his anger mounting.

"There is nothing wrong with her having secrets, Dad, everyone has secrets, especially in this line of business," Dean snapped, thinking of the few times they'd brushed on the topics John had just poked at with a jackhammer, and how emotional she'd gotten when they'd simply glanced across those subjects. His expression darkened even more, his voice hardening as he felt his contained anger mounting. "She's saved our lives, Dad, both of our lives, and saved yours too back in Chicago, in case you've forgotten. She's been right here for us at times when you should have been there. That shady woman you just attacked was willing to try and pry me out of the grip of a reaper she couldn't see with her bare hands and was with me every step of the way while I was dying, when you couldn't even be bothered to answer the damn phone. So back off."

Before he could really get going, Dean turned and followed Deja's path out of the room, heading straight to the door not five paces from theirs but pausing long enough to run a hand down his face and take a few breathers. Her door was open, for once, just a crack, almost like she expected or hoped someone would chase after her. Once Dean had a firm grasp on his emotions again, he pushed the door open, stepping quietly inside.

She had her back to him, her duffel on her bed, though knowing her he was pretty sure she knew he was there. He came up behind her, coming close enough to see that she was currently pulling out her always-on-hand bottle of tequila. Gently, he pressed up against her as he reached around her to put his hand over hers and push the bottle back into the duffel.

"It's a little early for rough day drinking, don't you think?" Dean asked, and Deja sighed, shaking her head but offering him no answer. Dean watched her closely before continuing to speak. "Listen...I know my dad can be a bit of a hard ass—"

"Dean, you don't have to apologize for your father," Deja told him, cutting him off. Dean shook his head.

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't. He's just protecting his sons, I get it," she replied softly, pulling away. Dean sighed, letting the breath out his nose as if mustering patience.

"Well, he hasn't been here, and he may not trust you, but I do," Dean stated, pausing long enough for her to turn and face him from where she stood about two steps in front of him. Then he continued. "Sam and I, we're the ones who've been around you all this time, and though I don't know everything about you, I know enough to trust you with my life—with our lives. Dad coming in and digging stuff up because he doesn't know or trust you isn't going to change that, and I'm sorry if he continues to be this way. It's just how he is."

Dean closed the distance between the two of them, pulling her into a hug so she would know how serious he was about this, arms wrapping instinctively around her as he guided her head to rest against his chest with a gentle hand on the back of her head. "Stubborn old man he may be, none of his antics are gonna change what I know."

Or feel.

He didn't say that last part, but he did lean in and gently kiss the top of her head, letting his lips linger and savoring the moment as long as he respectfully could.

"Thank you," she murmured into his chest.

"Thank you for sticking with us," Dean returned, resting his chin atop her head and keeping her in his embrace.

He didn't bring up the new bits of information he'd just learned about her in his father's sudden assault of questioning, figuring there was a lot more to the stories they didn't know and deciding not to speculate on them lest he find himself jumping to conclusions. He knew her, he trusted her, and right now, he just wanted to hold her. At least until he was sure she wouldn't need to turn to her emergency stash anymore. Cause if she'd been turning to that bottle of tequila, then what his father had brought up had stung deeper than she was willing to admit, and he didn't like the thought of her hurting because of someone in his family.

*****************************

Already off to a rocky start, Deja could tell that this hunt wasn't going to be pleasant, or that it would at least have a lot of tension on the social spectrum. Usually she hunted so well with Sam and Dean, enjoyed herself, but now that John was here...

She was woken up when light was just starting to pierce through the dark of night, Dean coming over half asleep to inform her that their father had heard something over the police radios that sounded like the vampires and they were all going to check it out. Sam and Dean had already been briefed by John on the general need to know lore about vampires, Deja sitting that family meeting out since she'd run into vampires before and already knew what he was telling them. Now, hopefully, they were officially on the trail.

Of course, it seemed they weren't privy to seeing this trail up close, as John seemed to have seized complete control of this hunt as soon as he came on it, and now Sam, Dean, and Deja were all waiting for John to finish talking to the local authorities and scoping the crime scene, all of them a little cranky for being up so early, and Sam seeming a little more annoyed than the rest of them.

"I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with him," Sam muttered, drawing Dean's attention. An exasperated expression crossed his face.

"Oh, don't tell me it's already starting."

"What's starting?" Sam asked, his tone slightly clipped.

It seemed Deja's short spat with John wasn't going to be the only drama during this hunt.

Great.

Dean turned away from Sam instead of answering, turning his attention to their father as he approached the three he'd made stay behind. Deja hung back a little further, noticeably distancing herself from the three Winchesters.

She didn't want to step on someone's toes and cause more drama—she didn't need to add to the friction that was already between the three, so she'd do her best just to fly under the radar, stay out of their way.

"Whaddya got?" Dean asked John, effectively dodging Sam's question.

"It was them all right. Looks like they're heading west. We're gonna have to double back to get around that detour."

"How can you be so sure?" Sam asked almost as soon as John was done talking.

"Sam..." Dean said tiredly.

"I just want to know we're going in the right direction," Sam shot back, tone clipped.

"We are," John said shortly.

"How do you know?" Sam repeated. He wasn't about to budge.

John looked mildly annoyed, though that might have only been because he was keeping his expression controlled, reaching into his pocket to pull out a tooth.

A vampire tooth.

"I found this," John said, letting Dean take it from his hands so he could look at it.

"It's a...vampire fang," Dean said in surprise.

"Not fangs, teeth—the second set descends when they attack," John corrected him. He looked back at Sam. "Anymore questions?" he asked, tone clipped a little more noticeably than Sam's had been. Sam didn't reply, his silence serving as his answer as his jaw clenched.

At least John had told him how he knew they were on the right track.

"All right...let's get out of here, we're losing daylight," John told them, already making his way to the truck that sat parked behind the Impala. "And Dean, why don't you touch up your car before you get rust? I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were gonna ruin it."

Deja blinked, taken aback just as much as Dean seemed to be as she gave the 67 Impala a good once over. "What do you mean, ruin it, she's in beautiful shape, especially considering most of the cars this old have ended up falling apart in forgotten junkyards," she countered, though of course John was already in the truck and didn't hear what she said. It didn't matter what he heard, though, cause what mattered was what the Impala's owner heard—Dean. She sighed, shaking her head and looking back over at him. "She's a beauty, Dean, seriously," she told him sincerely before making her way to her own car in the way back of their line-up and waiting to follow after them for the coming search for the vampire nest.

This part might take a while.

******************************

Deja wasn't in the Impala while they searched for the vampire trail, so unlike Dean, she wasn't aware of the steady growth of the fire that was the drama between Sam and John. Like John, however, she was not expecting what Sam did, and honestly, it would have turned out far worse if she hadn't had quick reflexes and good brakes.

The car in the lead, the Impala, which Sam was driving, suddenly swung onto its side, blocking the road. Being behind John's huge truck in her low riding Corvette, she didn't see that happen, and had to react to John's reaction, almost crashing into his truck and swinging the Corvette almost ninety degrees to avoid crashing her Rosanne into the monster truck in front of her.

The chain reaction Sam's move caused was almost instantaneous, everyone seeming to get out of their cars at once.

"What the hell, Sam!" Deja asked as she approached, adrenaline still coursing through her from the near-crash. However, her upset nature was quickly overshadowed by John's anger, and Sam's as well as the youngest Winchester seemed to be solely focused on John.

"What the hell was that," John growled while Dean warningly called out to Sam. Apparently, there was an explosion in progress, and she'd come very near to stepping right in it.

"We need to talk," Sam snapped as Deja instinctively stepped closer to the Winchester not involved in this spat—Dean.

"About what?" John asked, tone rather threatening.

"About everything," Sam returned sharply, undaunted by his shorter but no less threatening father. "Where are we going, Dad, what's the big deal about this gun?"

"Sammy, come on, we can Q and A after we kill all the vampires," Dean tried, stepping closer to the two that stood toe to toe in a now visible battle of wills.

"Your brother's right, we don't have time for this," John said flatly. Sam wasn't buying it—he didn't even glance at Dean.

"The last time we saw you, you said it was too dangerous to be together. Now, out of the blue, you need our help. No, obviously something big is going down, and we want to know what!" Sam shouted. John only looked at him with an expression that could be considered as bitter amusement.

"Get back in the car," John said lowly.

"No," Sam answered in clear defiance. John took a step closer.

"I said get back in the damn car."

"Yeah. And I said no."

It was official. Adding John to Sam and Dean was like adding kerosene to a fire. No, worse than that—gun powder. Gun powder, because Sam and Dean already tended to act like kerosene with one another on occasion, and now it was like John's mere presence was throwing fistfuls of gun powder into the situation to create random fireballs.

Dean did his best to put out that current fire.

"All right, you made your point, tough guy. Look, we're all tired, we can talk about this later. Sammy," Dean said shortly and almost desperately, grabbing a fistful of Sam's jacket and pushing his brother towards the Impala to get him away from John before the fight turned to blows, which was where it looked like it was going. "I mean it, come on."

"This is why I left in the first place," Sam muttered.

"What'd you say?" John asked, voice still full of some unspoken threat every parent seemed to own, but more intense.

"You heard me," Sam snapped, whipping around.

"Yeah, you left. Your brother and me, we needed you. You walked away, Sam, you walked away!" John returned, voice finally raising into a shout. Dean seemed exasperated to be dragged into the subject, but Deja was more concerned that both John and Sam seemed to be rapidly descending towards a physical fight.

"Stop it, both of you!" Dean yelled.

"You're the one who said don't come back, Dad. You're the one who closed that door, not me!" Sam shot back. "You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore!"

"Listen, stop it, stop it, both of you!" Dean shouted, forcing himself between the two when John finally grabbed Sam's jacket to do something, Deja moving forward instinctively as well but having to make a conscious effort not to insert herself in their family drama. Not this, not when it involved John. "Stop it, stop it, that's enough!"

Dean stood firmly between the two, his back to Sam as he held John off, breathing a little heavy. "That means you too," he told John, staring his father down.

Without a word, Sam suddenly turned and got back into the Impala, and as soon as the door shut John turned and made his way back to the truck. Dean glanced between them, throwing his hands up in surrender.

"Terrific," he muttered, turning to make his way to the passenger's side of the Impala again and almost running into Deja in the process. "Whoa...sorry."

"It's okay," Deja told him softly, clasping his shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze of comfort before she let her hand drop away and headed for the Corvette.

No need to do any more than that in front of John—he was already watching her close enough for being around his boys as a hunting partner, she didn't need him breathing down her neck because she showed interest in his eldest son, too.

*****************************

When they finally found the vampire's next in the middle of the day the next day, they spent a little time scoping the old barn out before retreating to where they'd parked their three cars safely away from the nest. Once there, they started equipping the weapons they might need, the machetes a definite must, though Deja kept her gun on her and added a few wicked knives to her person just in case.

"Hey Dad, I've got an extra machete if you need one," Dean called, offering said machete to their father, who was looking in a lockbox in the back of his truck.

"I think I'm okay, thanks," John answered, pulling out a long, shining machete. Deja had to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

She felt like she was standing near a bunch of men comparing package sizes like alpha males deciding dominance.

Uhg.

"Wow..." Dean said as he took in the weapon, though Deja didn't give it a second look, securing her machete to her waist.

She'd go for her durable, weathered machete over some flashy high-end machete.

Not that she was judging...consciously.

"So...you boys really want to know about this colt?" John asked after a few moments of silence, catching everyone's attention.

"Yes, sir," Sam said stiffly after a moment of silence. John looked at Deja.

"Do you mind?" he asked, not nearly as rudely as he could have.

Deja held up a hand in defense. "Don't worry I'm moving. Twenty paces enough?" she asked sarcastically, trying to keep from too much attitude coming through as she made her way far enough away from the group she couldn't hear what the Winchesters were saying. She folded her arms over her chest, keeping her back to them for added effect as she simply looked around at the woods around her, at the trees and the sunlight streaming through the trees, the dirt beneath her boots...

Eventually, the three Winchesters finished talking about whatever it was that was so special about the colt, and Sam and John started making their way on foot back to the barn while Dean called her over. When she reached him, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to his side so he could murmur into her ear.

"I'll tell you later," he promised before pulling away to a respectable distance. Deja nodded, following after him as they made their way to the nest.

They found a way in through a window in the barn, pulling themselves up to the window and dropping silently down onto the haybales stacked inside under the window.

An interior design flaw on the part of the vampires.

Deja was the last one in, so she quietly shut the two door window behind them, climbing down to stand between Sam and Dean as they took in the spattering of hammocks hanging in the barn, each hammock holding a vampire, and each vampire fast asleep. John had already disappeared to look for the gun, so Deja, Dean, and Sam were left to explore the nest and see if there was anyone they needed to rescue.

Carefully, the three made their way through the collection of hammocks, slowly starting to separate to go in different directions. Sam ended up ahead of them, and Deja remained a few steps behind Dean before she suddenly lunged forward, grabbing Dean by the shoulder and yanking him back before he bumped one of the hammocks. He turned to protest—maybe not vocally, but still—and Deja pressed a finger to his lips to keep him quiet.

Careful, she mouthed before walking past him and ducking low to avoid bumping the hammock herself.

"Dean, Deja," they suddenly heard Sam say softly, catching their attention and causing them to head his way. Tied to a post in the barn and fast asleep was what looked like a captive, perhaps one of the couple that had been kidnapped. She had blood on her, but Deja didn't see any marks.

She didn't like that.

"There's more," Dean whispered, gesturing to a pen on their left and moving to help them while Sam worked on the bonds of the woman tied to the post. "There's a whole bunch in here," Dean whispered into her ear before turning his full attention back to the pen. Deja glanced between the pen and the woman tied to the post while Dean went to bust the door right off the hinges. The hinges were rusted enough it would be simple, their concern was with whether or not it would make a noise loud enough to rouse the vampires in the room.

"If their captives are in there, why's she out here?" Deja murmured back, inclining her head to the rousing woman Sam was untying a split second before he busted the first hinge off. They all froze, gazes immediately jumping towards the hammocks to see if the sound had startled any of the vampires awake.

No, they were still in the clear.

"Hey, hey, shhh," Sam suddenly whispered, and Deja looked back at the woman tied to the post as she seemed to finally be coming awake. "We're here to help."

And that was when she turned her head enough for Deja to see the dried blood smeared over her mouth.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit...

"Sam, no!" Deja hissed, but it was too late. The woman was awake.

"No!" the woman shrieked before descending into a cacophony of sounds with an inhuman voice.

Well, if the vampires hadn't been waking up with the noise they were making before, they were going to wake now.

That thought had hardly even finished crossing her mind before she realized her machete was already in hand, grabbing Dean's shoulder and tugging him from the pen.

"Sam!" Dean called, as the barn was now a flurry of activity and silence was no longer necessary.

"We have to go, we'll get them another time," Deja told him, rushing over and grabbing the corner of Sam's jacket to get him moving as well.

"Dad," Dean said before they could get too far, turning to head back for their father.

"Boys, run!" came John's voice just in the nick of time, and like they were triggered by some magic word, they bolted, Deja wedged between Sam and Dean as they sprinted out the barn, this time right through the front door since there was a nest of vampires between them and the window they had initially come through.

Once they were through the front door, they didn't stop until they were back with the cars, all three of them catching their breath once they'd finally come to a standstill.

Dean whipped around when their number remained three, gaze searching the woods for John. "Dad? Dad!" he called, though to his apparent relief, John appeared a few moments later, slowing down as he reached the trees. Sam and Dean moved to head to the car, most likely to peel out of there, but John stopped them.

"They won't follow, they'll wait till tonight. Once a vampire gets your scent, it's for life," John told them.

"Well what the hell do we do now?" Dean asked.

"You've got to find the nearest funeral home, that's what," John said seriously, and Dean looked taken aback, maybe even a little insulted.

Don't worry, it's not as bad as it sounds.

*****************************

They waited until night to act. Their plan took some preparations, and Dean and Deja had to make a run to the funeral home for some dead man's blood, but soon John, Sam, and Deja were all waiting silently under cover of the trees up a hill. Down below, Dean stood in clear view of them, working on his Impala—or at least pretending to work on it.

He was the bait, and they were the trap.

Sure enough, a woman approached him—not a woman she'd seen in the barn, though by the way John suddenly tensed, she was pretty sure it was one of the vampires they were hunting for.

The two exchanged maybe three sentences, and the woman—no, vampire—backhanded Dean with enough force to send Dean to the ground. She grabbed him by the jaw, lifting him up into the air as a second vampire appeared to flank her. Deja stayed as relaxed as she could, refusing to let the sight below rile her and have her act too soon.

She cared for Dean, deeply, but that didn't mean she couldn't keep her head clear and focus on the job when he was around. That caring wasn't about to take away from her ability to do her job.

Deja took a deep breath and looked down the crossbow she had held ready to fire, taking her time to aim it at the vampire that had a strong grip on Dean. John was also armed with a crossbow, though it wouldn't do them any good to both shoot at the vampire holding Dean, so he was aiming at her accomplice.

The vampire suddenly lowered Dean, crushing her lips to his. Deja scowled, tensing, but her finger stayed steady despite the look John gave her, and it didn't pull the trigger prematurely because she saw a vampire kiss Dean.

There was no reason for John to scold her or anything, because she was in control, even with Dean in danger—but that was his job right now, to be the bait, to put himself in danger, and she knew she had to wait for the right moment, and she could wait because she trusted Dean.

The vampire pulled away from Dean, and from the corner of her eyes Deja saw John give the silent signal, and they simultaneously pulled the triggers of the crossbows, the arrows flying through the air to impale both vampires.

The vampire that had been flanking the female vampire went to his knees almost immediately, though when Sam, John, and Deja all made it to the road below, the female vampire was still standing, looking mildly annoyed. John and Deja had already pulled out their machetes, crossbows held loosely at their sides as they approached Dean and the female vampire.

"Barely even stings," the female said in a falsely sweet voice, and John gave her an equally fake smile.

"Give it time, sweetheart. Arrow's soaked in dead man's blood," John informed her, the smile instantly vanishing from her face. Sam took up a position by the other vampire, holding his machete at the ready in case the vampire tried anything. "It's like poison to you, isn't it?"

John had hardly finished speaking when the woman suddenly swooned, falling backwards into Dean's waiting arms as consciousness started to rapidly leave her.

"Load her up—I'll take care of this one," John told them, waving his machete at the second vampire. Nobody argued, Deja following after Dean with Sam close behind.

*****************************

Deja waited in her car while the Winchesters talked.

She'd been with them while they discussed dusting their clothes to hide their scent and their plan for Dean, Sam, and Deja to clean out whatever vampires were left at the nest and rescue the vampires' prisoners while John made a trade with the leader for the gun. However, when they'd started to talk about what came after...well, Deja could feel the tension growing, and she'd decided to give them space to have their discussion and talk freely, since John wasn't going to be willing to talk in front of her like Sam and Dean were.

It was clear when they were done talking, because John tied up the female vampire securely before putting her in his truck and driving away. When he was gone, Dean approached her Corvette, getting in on the passenger's side and looking over at her in the darkness.

"We're waiting for that stuff to burn, then we'll dust up and head out," he told her. Deja turned her head to look at him, as she was reclined in her seat with her head leaning back.

"So now we wait," Deja acknowledged, giving a small nod.

Dean leaned over, resting one of his elbows on the seat. "You know, about this colt..."

"Dean, you don't need to tell me, really," Deja assured him, looking away already.

"I want to."

Deja turned back to him, lips parting instinctively to answer but remaining in a surprised little o. Dean smiled slightly at her reaction, taking her silence as his cue to keep speaking as he leaned forward a little more.

"The gun that our dad's after can kill anything, at least it's supposed to. Dad wants to use it to kill the demon that killed our mom."

"It what?" Deja asked, sitting up, much more alert now. "I've never heard of anything like that!"

"Well, once we have it I'm guessing Dad will do something to make sure the legends are true. He isn't going to go up against this demon without knowing for sure it really does kill anything."

"So, after this hunt...you'll all be going after the demon?" Deja asked, voice suddenly slightly timid.

Dean grew quiet, shaking his head and leaning back in the seat. "No...he wants to go after the demon alone, says he's afraid we'll get hurt or we'll slow him down. Bunch of bullshit, if you ask me, considering he knows the kind of jobs we've been working."

Deja watched Dean for a few moments as he simply stared out into the darkness ahead of them. Clearly whatever conversation the Winchesters had while she was waiting in the car had upset him. "He wants us to move on without him after we clear the nest, doesn't he? Not meet up with him when we're done."

"Yeah, pretty much," Dean muttered.

Deja studied him a little longer before she finally spoke again. "Might I respectfully suggest that you ignore that order, considering we don't know how many of the vampires will go to that trade and he could end up in trouble."

"That's what I've been thinking...Sam, too," Dean replied. "After we clear the nest, we're gonna go where they are cause he might need us."

"And after?" Deja pressed gently.

"We can't do much about after. If he wants to leave, he'll leave," Dean answered with a shake of his head. Deja nodded.

"Well, at least if he does go, I'll still be around."

"Yeah...you will," Dean agreed, turning to look at her again. "And I'm glad that you'll still be here."

Deja held his gaze, smiling softly at him in the darkness before Dean leaned in a little more, eyes unwavering from her own. "Deja..." he said quietly in a tone that sent a thrill down her spine.

No.

"Dean," she returned, though she said it in a way that he would know she was shining a spotlight on that line, eyebrows raising. Dean sighed, searching her eyes intently for some sign that she did want him to press forward. He slowly licked his lips, casting his gaze down.

"I wish—"

A knock on the car interrupted him, both of them breaking the moment between them as they turned to see Sam approaching with a handful of ash.

Their sign that they were out of time.

"C'mon, guys, we've got to go—clear out that nest before Dad's done with that trade," Sam said, and within moments they were out of the car.

Even if they were a little reluctant to leave. Deja wanted to know what Dean had been about to say, and of course, Dean had wanted to say it.

*****************************

The barn was practically empty when Sam, Dean, and Deja arrived. Which meant that most of the nest had gone to where John was at trying to make his trade.

Which also meant that for all his bravado, he was in danger, and they needed to clear the barn quickly but still efficiently so they could make it back to the oldest Winchester.

They came in at different points, one of them through the same window as before, one of them found a way in the back, and Sam made a little noise by the door to draw out anyone standing around that general area. Deja had taken the way back, and she quietly worked her way back to the front, only coming across two or three unsuspecting vampires before she reached Dean in the main room, back by the pen of hostages.

"Clear," she told him, and he nodded, turning to the pen and pulling out his pocket knife.

"I told you I'd come back," he told the semi-conscious people within, and as soon as he popped the last hinge off they were both inside the pen tearing duct tape off mouths and cutting the ropes that kept them all bound. One by one they ushered the dazed hostages out of the barn towards Sam, who was telling them where to go, giving those in the worst of shape the keys to the only car that remained outside—once Dean had found them, of course—and making sure someone who was completely lucid was behind the wheel.

They did one last quick sweep of the barn before meeting up with Sam again outside, and without a word having to be spoken between the three of them they high tailed it towards the rendezvous point where John was going to make the trade.

Once they saw light through the trees they parked and pulled out their weapons, Dean grabbing his crossbow while Deja and Sam stuck to machetes, racing through the woods to try and catch the vampires off guard if John didn't have the situation under control.

When they finally saw the scene through the trees, it came into view just in time for all of them to see what was probably the leader throw John into the truck, a showering of glass echoing through the immediate area when the action smashed the window on the driver's side. John didn't get back up, and the lead vampire started making his way over to where John had fallen when Dean raised the crossbow from their spot in the trees and fired, nailing one of the vampires right through the chest.

The vampires immediately moved into a flurry, Sam rushing to defend John while Dean paused to shoot another vampire through the chest. Before Sam even reached the road, the leader was in his way, knocking him to the ground. Seeing that Sam was vulnerable, Deja launched herself his way, putting her head down and full on tackling the vampire that was descending on him before he could grab Sam and knocking him to the ground. She rolled to her feet while he snapped back up, pulling the machete from its spot on her side and swiftly positioning herself between the vampire and Sam, who was getting back to his feet as well. The vampire went to lunge at her but found her blade between them, eyes hard as she angled it towards his neck. He glared at her, moving as if to step around her and get to Sam, but she stepped into his path, blade still pointed at him.

"Don't even try it," Deja told the vampire flatly, seeing Dean aim the crossbow at the leader out of the corner of her eye while Sam retrieved his fallen machete, pointing it in warning towards the drugged up vampire that was the leader's mate to warn her off as well. The leader sneered at Deja.

"You people...why can't you just leave us alone? We have as much a right to live as you do," he said angrily, and Deja felt a flicker of sympathy.

If they hadn't killed people...I'd be inclined to let them go.

"I don't think so," came a gruff voice from near John's truck, and they all looked in time to see John aim the antique gun that Deja guessed was the colt at the leader and squeeze the trigger, getting the vampire right between the eyes.

Everyone watching—including the vampire's mate and one of the vampires that must have been waiting in one of the cars parked opposite John's since she just now showed up—seemed to hold their breath, waiting to see what would happen.

The lead vampire went slack, still standing as his expression went blank, thunder seeming to rumble in the distance as the skin around the bullet wound seemed to crumble, a wind picking up before he fell to his knees, and with one last pull that Deja felt, not because it was dark energy but because it was raw, massive energy, a shadow seemed to be ripped from his body and he fell unmoving to the ground.

"Luther!" his mate shrieked, barely held back by the remaining vampire.

It...it actually works...

"Kate, don't!" the other vampire said, though none of the hunters paid attention as the two female vampires fled the scene.

They were too busy staring at the dead vampire in front of them, a mixture of awestruck, shock, and smug satisfaction on their faces that the gun had actually worked.

*****************************

They all went back to the motel, John included, to pack, and to go back to only three on the road, most likely. Packing never took long, since they always kept so little on them—or at least didn't leave much in the hotel rooms so they could make a quick escape—so Deja wasn't surprised when Dean knocked on her door.

She looked up, a small smile flickering across her face. "Hey, I'm pretty much ready to go if you guys are."

Dean nodded, stepping into the room. "Yeah, we're basically set. I came over to tell you...Dad's staying."

Deja paused, unfortunately unable to hide all of her surprise at his statement. "Really? I thought he wanted to do this one alone?"

"Yeah, but...Sam and I changed his mind. So, he's going to let us help...and you," Dean said, coming to a stop beside her.

"Me? I thought he didn't even trust me to know about the gun?"

Dean chuckled under his breath, though the sound was on the humorless side. "Well, it did take some convincing, and I told him I'd already told you about the gun and you knew what was going on."

"Bet he didn't take that well."

"Mm...better than I expected him too."

"Listen, Dean..." Deja said with a sigh, absentmindedly thumping her fist against her other palm a few times. "I appreciate you defending me and all, but I don't want to become a problem between you and your father."

"You're not," Dean soothed her, placing his hand on hers briefly to stop the nervous tick. "Deja, I want you to stay. I've gotten used to having you with us, and...well, it might be a family thing, but I'd feel wrong if you weren't with us to help. I mean, you said you'd stay, so please...stay."

He licked his lips, looking like he was on the verge of saying something that part of him was telling him to keep to himself. Finally, he seemed to decide to just go for it, holding her gaze.

"Stay for me."

Deja suddenly got the very vivid image of the two of them standing toe to toe with their line drawn in red on the ground, and Dean leaning over that line again.

Except now, she wasn't leaning away as much as she had when they were hunting the shtriga.

"In that case...a hunting we will go."